betrayed
by liveFREExo15
Summary: you dont think olivia did this, do you?" melinda asked, standing over the tortured corpse. "i don't know what to think anymore," elliot replied sadly, thinking about the victim previous to the one lying on the table now, of kathy. full story! R&R please!
1. Chapter 1

**Betrayed**

Kathy slept fitfully through the night, awaking multiple times. Once, she swore she heard banging at the door, then the tinkling of glass shattering and falling, bouncing on the linoleum kitchen floor. Another time she was almost convinced there were footsteps in the hall, echoing creepily and growing closer with each second. Passing all of these odd noises as the house groaning in the wind, or the bare limbs reaching out and scraping the window glass, she always turned over, put the blanket up over her head and went back to sleep.

Finally, she heard heavy breathing. Waking fully, she knew this wasn't made up; this wasn't the house creaking or the kids playing a trick on her. She crept slowly towards the closet, where the silver platinum bat was hidden. Her sweaty feet made suctioning noises as she avoided the weak boards, trying to go undetected. The heavy oaken door swung open with a little persuasion, the hinges stiff and rusting and squealing loudly as they worked. Kathy winced outwardly, hoping to God that he wouldn't hear it, or her labored breaths.

Her fingers groped through the darkness, struggling to find the cool handle of the bat…nothing. Her brain scrambled, panicking. Kathy's eyes swiveled up and down, side to side, straining to find the outline of the defense weapon. Not even a faintly resembling shape popped out in the pitch darkness. She tried to keep her mind away from the fact that every hollow step that grew closer was a step, a second closer to her possible and probable death.

And as many have heard many times, her life flashed before her eyes. From the first age she could remember until the very night previous, memories flooded in. Her eyes were full to the brim with tears, but refused to let them spill. No, she would remain strong.

There was only one person, she knew, who could have known about the bat. She had told the children about it, told them they mustn't move it at all, unless it was a complete emergency. They had understood and sworn to uphold the rule. There was only one person who had the opportunity to get the keys to the new locks on all the doors. There was only one person she knew of who could pull off the perfect crime. But she didn't know why. Why would Elliot do such a thing; threaten the mother of his own flesh and blood? Elliot was a good man, a good man with some anger issues, but never towards his family and friends, only perverts and criminals.

Even being shunned from his work life and separated most of the time by his demanding work in the office and on the streets, Kathy had managed to pick up on a few things, like motive. Motive, Elliot had motive. He had a lot of it, actually. She knew she had taken away the one thing he really cared for, and she knew very well that he was very angry. Actually, there were five of those special things: Maureen, Kathleen, Dickey, Elizabeth and Eli. He would never let them go without a fight, and here he was…fighting. A renewed spark lit in her brain, a dying determination to save her children.

She had learned about opportunity, too. Elliot spent every free moment with his children. He could have snatched the keys for the new locks to the house when one of the older girls wasn't looking and saved it somewhere private. He could have been waiting for a good chance. Maybe he had the night off from work and had come up with a fake alibi. Maybe she was just plain crazy.

On the other hand, she thought, he was always at work. She should have known that from all the times he hadn't bothered to come home for dinner, or at all. Olivia and his three other detective friends would back him up, along with that boss of his, Cragen. She knew what they'd say, too: "Who do you think the jury will believe: a distressed ex – wife dealing with bringing up five kids alone and getting over a divorce or a decorated cop, even a detective with a relatively good reputation and an alibi?" No, she didn't have a chance and yes, she knew it.

So caught up in the battle between her heart and her brain, she didn't notice the stranger in black enter the room. She didn't hear the closet door groan when it was pulled open from the outside. No, that sounded like a soft sigh the house often gave in the middle of the night. She didn't feel the air rush as his hand barely missed the small of her back. Nor did she hear the cold slide of metal as he drew his weapon. She didn't smell death or blood until he had his arm around her waist and his knife to her throat. She didn't smell it until she was bound and cut. She didn't realize anything until the screen in her head went fuzzy and finally blank, until it was too late.

*

Policemen tramped up and down the stairs, going through her family's belongings. A particularly ugly, gruff looking man stooped down to look beneath the bed. He could barely see over the great round lump of his stomach. He had apparently been sneaking seconds at dinner time. Trembling beneath the wooden frame of her bed, she was found frozen by fear hours later by the police. She was wheeled away on a stretcher by paramedics and was transported to Bellevue Hospital for observation until her father came to pick her up.

*

"Will she be okay?" Elliot asked, concerned, to the doctor sitting in front of him. Dr. Roy was a thin, muscled man with a clean – shaven face and thick, brownish – red hair. He looked barely over twenty seven, just out of college, and for some unknown reason, Elliot didn't trust him. It wasn't that he didn't think Dr. Roy was well trained and very smart, but he seemed too inexperienced and young to handle his daughter's case. Or maybe he was just overreacting to a simple case of shock.

"She'll be fine," Dr. Roy said, smiling brightly and looking down at Elliot's youngest daughter with warm, blue eyes. "She's in shock. We gave her some sleeping medication and nutrient – infused fluids. We're keeping her over night for observation. I'll release her tomorrow morning."

"Thank you," Elliot murmured.

"They say she witnessed something last night," the doctor pressed gently. "Do you know what she saw? It might help her to see a psychiatrist."

"You think my daughter's crazy?"

"No, just that she might feel better if she talks to someone, and sometimes it's easier for a young girl to talk to a stranger rather than her friends or her family," Dr. Roy said.

"Thank you, doctor, I'll take that into consideration," Elliot said firmly in a very dismissive way. The handsome doctor picked up a chart and a clipboard and strode from the room on long legs. His doctor's jacket billowed out behind him.

Elliot spent the night at the hospital, eventually joined by his four other kids, who had luckily been out of the house. Elizabeth slept until the morning. In the time between then and Elizabeth's release from the hospital, Elliot paced the halls. Everything was too sterile; the place almost had a shiny glow to it. The air stank of latex and medication. Every room looked the exact same: square, white with a bed pushed in the corner with machines all around it and a visitor's chair beside the bed.

He hated hospitals. Only bad thoughts came to mind whenever the word "hospital" jumped into his brain. He didn't even want to think about it.

As promised, Dr. Roy gave Elliot the release forms at eight in the morning, on the dot. Elliot drove Elizabeth and the others home, stopping for ice cream on the way. Elizabeth got the biggest size, whatever she wanted. Plus, ice cream was "comfort food". Everyone loves ice cream and chocolate, especially when you smush them together as double chocolate ice cream with peanut butter chunks.

The next day, Elliot went into work, leaving Maureen and Kathleen in charge of the house with strict instructions on allowing Elizabeth first choice to everything. For once, they abided without a fuss. Eli went to day care and Dickey stayed at his friend Paul's house for the day. Paul's parents were only too happy to oblige. The two were close, like brothers. They called themselves cousins.

Being at worked was comforting to Elliot. Warmth spread through his heart when he saw Olivia, bright eyed and cheery, but appropriately sorry at the same time. Fin behaved for once and Munch gave him a Munch – like "welcome back" speech.

"So," he said, once he was situated again at his usual desk. "What've we got?"

"You know we can't really tell you," Liv said softly, gently. "I'll update you, but you'll always have to be at arm's length. I'm sorry, El." She looked at him with sympathetic eyes, so full of emotion that Elliot almost forgot his problems. She was the one to tear her gaze away, blushing. Cragen turned his back, pretending not to notice. The one thing he didn't want on his mind then was the thought of his two best detectives in a relationship equaling more than ordinary friendship.

"Yeah, I know," he sighed. "Call me when you've got something." With that, he picked up his coat and a cup of bitter coffee and strode from the room. He passed the assistant district attorney, Kim Greyleck, on the way out. She had her hair down for once, but it lacked to soften her bony face with sunken eyes and thin lips. He paused, looked at her, and continued on his way.

"Elliot, I'm sorry about your wife's death," Kim said, not sounding sorry at all. Her steely eyes showed no emotion, not that they ever did anyways.

"Yeah, thanks." Her heels clacked and faded as she went through the double doors leading to the squad room. Elliot honestly did not want to know what she was about to tell the squad, presumably about his wife's case.

Wait, he thought to himself suddenly, we don't know if she's dead yet.

But in his heart, he thought he knew. He felt like a part of him had died on the inside, and everything else was falling apart without that tiny piece.

*

The call came on a Saturday, three weeks and six days from Elliot's three hour long visit to work. It was early in the morning and the sky was a perfect cloudless blue. The sun was still rising higher in the sky, its yellow glow growing brighter gradually. Elliot was letting the kids sleep in, as they well deserved it. They were being spoiled. He wasn't planning on waking them up for church the next day.

It was the home phone. Elliot was working on paying bills and organizing paperwork. About to ignore it, he caught sight of the well known number. It was Cragen, but he couldn't think of any reason why the squad would be calling, other than to bring bad news. Hating himself, he picked up the phone and dreaded the words he knew he was about to hear.

"Hello, Stabler residence," he said flatly.

"Elliot, it is Cragen," a husky voice on the other side of the phone line said.

"I know," Elliot said briskly, wanting to get to the point and get it over with as quickly as possible. He rapped his fingers rhythmically on the wooden table he was sitting at, impatient. Switching hands, he began drumming his right fingers as a way to calm himself.

"Well, I hate to tell you this, and you have all our best wishes but –," Cragen began.

"With all due respect, Captain, just get to the point." There was a tense pause.

"They found her this morning."

"Oh, okay, where?" Elliot's heart began pounding. He had known this conversation would come. He had been preparing for it, preparing what he would finally say to his children, prepared how to handle their heartbroken reactions. But now that it was here, he had absolutely no idea what to do.

"Well, it was delivered to the squad room in a wooden package," Cragen sighed sadly. "Melinda says she couldn't have been dead three hours before she was sent off. But there were signs of a struggle, and there are burns and cuts all over her."

"So she was tortured," he clarified slowly, still processing the words.

"Yes. I need you to come down and identify the body, just to be sure."

"Okay. I'll be down as soon as I can," Elliot said. "I'm leaving now. I just have to tell the kids I'm leaving." He hung up the phone, not waiting to hear sympathy from his boss. He didn't want it. All he wanted was for this mess to clear up so he could move on with his life.

He knocked gently on Kathleen's door. She was awake, propped up in bed by her millions of frilly, turquoise and brown pillows with a book she was intently reading. Kathleen barely lifted her eyes from the filled pages when her father sat down on the very edge of her bed.

"What're you doing up so early?" Elliot asked jokingly. She shrugged, still reading.

"Well I've got to step out for a few," he said. "Take care of everything, I'll be back soon." He gave her a half – hug good – bye and kissed her forehead.

"Shut the door!" she called to him on his way out. He doubled back and closed the sign – filled door. There was a small click as the lock fell into place.

*

Elliot took a deep, slow breath, calming his nerves and stepped through the double doors and into the squad room. Frustration and disgusting coffee met his nose, and four especially grim faces followed that. Olivia laid a hand on the upper of his arm and led him to the morgue.

"I want to go in," he insisted. He was standing behind the glass screen. Kathy lay on the other side. He had to be with her, to touch her and say his good – byes one last time before her burial. He needed to feast his eyes on her beautiful body until she was lowered into the ground forever, to rest in peace with God and the rest of her deceased family. Elliot knew she would be happier.

"Are you sure?" Olivia asked. He nodded his head furiously. Of course he was sure.

Once he was comfortably situated on the other side of the glass, standing beside the covered corpse of his ex – wife, Melinda approached. She lifted the light blue sheet to just above Kathy's chest. Her hair was splayed messily behind her, it looked natural; Elliot liked it. She was more peaceful in death than in life, and perhaps paler, too, if possible.

"Yeah, that's her." He swallowed hard and left the room. Not one tear in his eye burned for her. He didn't waste time mourning. He had things to do, he had to move on. There was no use in wallowing in the past when the future held good things, better things.

"You okay, El?" Olivia asked as he brushed past her. He stopped just before the door and looked her dead in the eye, his face softening. Melinda disappeared into the background and slipped away, out the door. She could read emotions.

"Could be better," he admitted. He smiled a small, sad smile. She smiled back wryly, moving a bit closer, inch by inch, second by second. She took his hand in hers.

"Hold still," she said, leaning in and trying not to breathe too hard on him. She hoped her breath didn't smell bad. That would be the ultimate humiliation.

But Elliot wasn't thinking about her breath. He was looking at her face, her beauty. She was so stunning up so close. He wished he had seen this earlier. Maybe he never would have married Kathy. He scolded himself. Not marrying Kathy wasn't a mistake, it was a blessing. Without her, he wouldn't have five beautiful children. A fresh wave of sorrow rolled over him for his dead ex – wife, but passed.

"Why?" he asked, eyes wide.

"I want to try something," she said, eyes closing. And she closed the space between them. Her lips pressed against his for many lush, fantastic seconds. She pulled away, but he held her firmly. She was his new love, his new life. She had been for many years now; it had only been a matter of time.

"I – I've got to go," he said awkwardly, stumbling from the room, leaving Olivia ruffled and feeling a bit silly.

"We'll find who did this," she promised to the empty room, to Kathy. And she too turned and left the room, leaving Kathy's spirit alone in the darkness.

*

The squad room was hot and sticky, though outside it was frigid. It had been many days since Kathy Stabler's death, and Elliot had planned a nice burial with their church. The date was set to January 2nd, and it was nearing Christmas time.

Olivia wiped a small bead of sweat from the top of her brow, near her hair line. Her phone buzzed in her pocket. It was forensics, and test results were back. She picked up the phone to hear Melinda's cheery voice, brisk as the air outside.

"Morning, Liv," she said.

"What's up?" Olivia asked, still working on the mountainous pile of paperwork precariously stacked on top of her desk. She paused for a moment to look across at the empty seat facing her, and the papers and organizing office equipment that hadn't been touched for weeks.

"Well we found a fingerprint on a fabric inside her trachea. It was only a partial and we're running right now, I'll tell you if something pops," Melinda began. "There were a few fibers inside the cuts and other small things that are being checked out. No drugs or alcohol, but that was expected."

"Thanks, Melinda," Olivia said. She sighed, unhappy that there wasn't any really good news to give Elliot. She so wanted to see joy spread over his beautiful face. But not this time, not yet.

"Olivia," she said, before Olivia had the chance to hang up. "How's Elliot doing?"

"I don't know," Olivia confessed, feeling slightly bad about not checking up on her partner of so many years. "I'm planning on seeing him tonight, if I get the chance."

"Okay, tell him I hope he's well."

"I will. Bye, Melinda." Melinda hung up first. Olivia took a few moments out of her busy life to listen to the dead hum of the dial tone. She wished life was that simple, no bumps or ups and downs.

She had lied. She wasn't planning on seeing Elliot that night. She wasn't planning on going to his house any time soon. Their last encounter had been awkward and inappropriate, and she didn't think either of them wanted a repeat. Thinking about it made her shiver, so she turned back to the only thing she really had in life: her tedious, complicated work.

*

"So there wasn't any hit on the fingerprint?" Olivia asked, disappointed.

"No, but even if we found a match, it would never hold up in court. Now, the other things we had a bit more luck with," the man in the white lab coat said. Olivia didn't know his name, didn't care to, anyways. It wasn't her business.

He put a slide underneath a microscope and pushed it towards Olivia. She bent down and looked through to the few fibers in oober bright light and scary detail.

"I give up. What is it?"

"It's from a car carpet, probably in the trunk," the guy told her. "We're still trying to figure out from what car, but we'll know soon enough. Now the wood was your basic oak, could've come from anywhere. From the crude building of the box, it was probably home made, but that wouldn't hold up in court or be useful to get the guy – lots of people can use wood."

"What about the others?"

"There was foreign blood mixed in with the victim's. We couldn't separate it enough to hit any DNA matches, but we know it's A – positive and female."

"Well A – positive isn't exactly a rare blood type, so I doubt that will help. Do you have anything concrete that we can use to catch this girl?"

"I'm afraid not yet. Maybe we'll find something later, if she strikes again."

"Maybe…."

"Well, thanks mister." Olivia left the building feeling as though she hadn't learned anything use – full to the case, and in a way, she hadn't. They had a few tips that might point them in a general direction, but even a lousy defense attorney could knock the bits and pieces of evidence down.

*

"A body's turned up in the Hudson River," Cragen told the squad room. "She has torture signs all over her body. She's been identified as Kherrington Rogers from Queens. Her apartment has a lot of blood in it, and nothing found so far. But I want Olivia over there. You two go check out the neighbors and her friends – anyone that might have known her. I want a time line."

"That sounds similar to Kathy's murder," Olivia pointed out. "Do you think it could be the same person? Maybe she's getting better, getting addicted."

"Let's hope that's not the case," Cragen said grimly before returning to his solitary office.

*

Back in the squad room at the end of the day, Fin and Munch reported that Kherrington had been a very lonely, unsocial girl who didn't talk to anyone or had any friends. She had been the end of her family tree; everyone else was either dead, in prison since before she was born, or missing.

"So we've got nothing," Cragen clarified.

"Doorman didn't even recognize the girl as ever living there," Fin said, "but she definitely did."

"It looked a lot like Kathy's murder," Olivia said. "The scene fit and the body will probably, too, once Melinda finishes the autopsy and the drug reports come back."

"Back to square one," Munch said.

"Not exactly," Olivia said. "There's always Elizabeth. She was there the night her mother was murdered, she saw everything. We need to talk to her. She's our only lead."

"Do you really think Elliot will let us?" Cragen asked.

"Of course not," Fin shot down the idea momentarily. "He's a hardhead in general, what do you think he'll be like when it comes to his kids?"

"Kathy was his wife," she pointed out. "Maybe he'll let her help. It's worth a shot, unless you've got a better plan." She looked at Fin expectantly. He pursed his lips and grabbed his coat.

"No," Cragen said, stopping them. "Munch, Olivia, you two go. Fin, you and Elliot have some kind of beef between you two. The last thing we need right now is tension in the room, especially with a witness. You two, see if he'll let you talk to them. If you can, try and get them down here. Go slow."

*

"Hi," Elliot said, shocked to see his visitors. "Uh…come in. Can I help you?" He opened the door and stepped back, allowing his colleagues to enter the room. Kathleen dashed from her spot in the kitchen where she was making soup for an extra late dinner. Maureen left the television running and went up to her room with Kathleen. Dickey, who had been doing homework, slipped up the stairs silently, leaving the two official detectives alone with his father.

"We need to talk to Elizabeth," Olivia said. "She's our only hope." Elliot's jaw muscle ticked quickly as he thought this request through. He wasn't sure he was ready to give Elizabeth up to the police and their questioning quite yet, even if it was Olivia and Munch. He knew they worked perfectly well with children, but Elizabeth was special. She was his. But he owed at least this much to Kathy.

"Okay, I'll go get her," he agreed grudgingly.

"Ahm, why don't we just stay in her room? She might feel more…comfortable," Olivia offered. Elliot nodded, and the two followed Elliot up to Elizabeth's room.

Elizabeth was in bed, half reading a book and half watching infomercials. She looked up when the three entered the room, clicking the television off and folding a page down in her book, to save her spot. She chewed her lip nervously, knowing very well what they were there about. She just didn't want to share her information, didn't want to relive the horrors of that night.

"Hi Elizabeth," Olivia said warmly. Munch sat back in the corner with Elliot and watched.

"I know what you want," Elizabeth said, cutting right to the chase.

"Alright, then what can you tell us?"

"I didn't see anything but shadows," Elizabeth began, closing her eyes and trying her best to remember every detail that might help. "It was so scary. I thought he was going to come into my room. But he walked right by. He was a dark figure…dressed all in black. And he had boots on that were really loud in the hall. I heard him go into Mom's room, and I followed him. But I hid beneath my bed when he turned around. I thought he'd heard me breathing. I saw him go out again a long time later. He was covered in blood, I could smell it. I could see him dragging something behind him."

"Is there anything else, anything at all?" Olivia pressed gently.

"No. Not that I can remember, at least. I'm sorry."

"You did great, sweetheart, just fine. Thank you. Now, did you touch anything?"

"Yeah, he left a knife behind. I took it and hid it because it was the only thing I could see. It was in the middle of the hallway."

"Where did you put it?" Olivia looked around the room. Elizabeth pointed to a small wooden chest with the word "TOYS" carved in big, brightly painted letters. Munch opened it up, put on a latex glove and slipped a bloody knife into an evidence bag and sealed it. He examined it through the bag.

"Anything?" Elliot asked hopefully.

"A nice, bloody fingerprint should do it, unless it matches Elizabeth's," Munch said happily.

"No, I made sure not to touch the blood. I used a tissue."

"Good," Elliot said. "Will that be all?"

"For now," Olivia said, following Munch from the room and adding on her way out, "Melinda hopes you're well. Everyone wishes for the best. We'll find this girl."

"Thanks," Elliot murmured and shut the door as she turned away. He turned to his daughter.

"Will I have to testify?" Elizabeth asked, the tears that she had refused to show earlier shining clearly in her eyes. Elliot sat on the bed and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tight to his chest.

"Not if you don't want to," Elliot promised. "I won't make you. I won't let them make you."

"But I want to," Elizabeth said, pushing away. "If it helps, I want to."

"Are you sure?" Elliot looked into his youngest daughter's defiant eyes and already knew the answer. She nodded her head, yes, and he did too.

*

It was four a.m and Olivia was enjoying a few rare hours of blissful sleep. She hadn't taken any medication to put her to sleep, in case she was called away in the middle of the night, as she usually was. She was in a deep sleep, which was very rare for her.

The door was smashed in with a crash. Armed men in uniforms ran into the room, pointing their large guns at her. She jumped up in bed, looking around, confused and dazed and wondering if maybe she was just experiencing a very realistic, terrible nightmare.

An unfamiliar detective with his gold badge pinned proudly to his chest pocket yanked her out of bed and slapped cuffs on her wrists. Olivia, who had been speechless by shock until the moment, finally got her act together.

"What's going on?" she demanded angrily.

"Olivia Benson, we have a warrant for your arrest, signed by a judge." The detective showed her a blue folded up paper that Olivia recognized as a court order. She knew it wasn't a fake, and this wasn't a freaking dream. This was actually happening.

"What are you doing to me?" she asked, looking around still.

"Olivia Benson, you are under arrest for the murders of Kathy Stabler and Kherrington Rogers. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford one, one will be appointed to you…." The man dragged her away.

Outside, the media was terrible. The detective pushed their way through and roughly shoved her into a police car. He rapped the outside and it took off, wailing, the bright lights cutting the dark.

Elliot, standing in the crowd of onlookers, watched the lights fade into nothing, into the night of the city. Cold dread crawled up his spine and his heart ached. He just didn't want to face the truth. A single tear streaked down his cheek, but he brushed it away angrily and ducked back into his car and sped away before any of the press had the chance to talk to him or even notice he was there.

*

Olivia spent the night in a holding cell, still in her flannel pajamas. Early the next morning she was shaken awake and thrown into an interrogation room. The detective who had arrested her in the earlier hours of the morning entered, looking sinister. He opened his mouth to speak.

"I want a lawyer." She beat him to it. Looking pissed off; he left the room, slamming the door.

*

"What?" Melinda asked, looking Elliot dead in the eye. He was standing on her doorstep. She couldn't believe what he was telling her. She wouldn't.

"They arrested Olivia this morning."

"Why?"

"They charged her for the murder of Kathy and Rogers," he said.

"No, that's not possible. Has she said anything?"

"No, she's with her lawyer now. They said she lawyered up before the arresting officer had a chance to say a word."

"Sounds like Olivia," Melinda said, smiling faintly at her friend's stubbornness. "What can we do? They can't be right; I mean Olivia would never do that."

"I don't know," he said. "We're supposed to meet at the squad room soon, on Cragen's orders. I'm here to pick you up."

"Hold on a sec; come in while I change," she ran from the room and changed out of her bath robe and into slacks and a long sleeved shirt and a heavy sweater.

*

"What do they have against her, anything?" Fin asked as soon as Elliot and Melinda burst through the squad room doors.

"Elliot, you can't be in here," Cragen said, holding up a hand to stop Fin from talking. Elliot's face drained of color, but his obeyed his boss and left the room quickly. He felt all the eyes in the room boring holes into his back, even when he was gone.

"They have evidence?" Fin asked.

"Her blood type matches the type at the scene, and it's her bloody fingerprint on that knife that Elizabeth took and hid. The carpet fibers were a match to her car, and there were new carpets in her car and they found wood in her back yard. Right now, everything we've got is pointing to her," Cragen informed them with extra grimness.

"What about the other crime scene, Kherrington Rogers?" Munch asked. "Surely the killer left something behind there."

"All evidence on the body was washed away, but the M.O was exactly the same. The tox – screen came back negative for everything and nothing but the victim's blood was found at the crime scene. The weapon was found in a dumpster outside of Olivia's apartment building. The doorman remembers her leaving and going around back," Cragen said.

"No fingerprints or DNA," Melinda added.

"So there's nothing at all that will work in her defense?" Munch asked.

"I'm afraid so," the Captain said.

"Who's handling the case?" Fin asked.

"Detectives Marks and Rowan, two of the finest, are."

"Who's the judge?" Munch asked.

"My boss promised to take over the case, to ensure Olivia gets a fair trial. She's looking over everything," Kim said, speaking up for the first time in her space in the corner of the room, hidden. All eyes turned to her. She liked the attention. It gave her a feeling of the greatest power.

"Judge Donnelly? I didn't think she still…never mind," Melinda said. 'That's good; she's fair." Kim nodded in agreement and went silent, choosing to watch. She wanted to prosecute this case so badly, but that might attract bad attention to her. She wanted to remain low to the ground, unseen.

"Arraignment is tomorrow," Cragen said. "I want you all to be there."

*

Olivia's face got hot as she saw all her friends sitting there in defense for her. There she was, being led into the court room by two armed guards in dirty, wrinkled clothes and no badge or gun to make her feel as an equal. Olivia hated this. She was innocent, she knew she was.

The trial was slow and painful and even more so embarrassing. She hated the way her friends looked at her and she detested how Judge Donnelley looked down upon her like just another scum bag that was brought to court. Then again, that's how she was supposed to ask.

But most of all, there was Kim Greyleck. Kim and Olivia never got off on the right foot. In fact, they got off on the worst foot possible. Their eyes met for a moment, and Olivia could see the malice and laughter glinting in her cold eyes.

Mr. Matron was a as good a defense attorney as anyone else that was paid a million dollars an hour, but even the best would have looked like a first – year law student with the prosecution's evidence and reasoning. Olivia hated the NYPD for being so good at their jobs. She wondered if everyone she had brought to trial felt like that. They probably did. Her heart went out for them, but remembered that they were actually guilty. She, on the other hand, was not.

The trial ended a couple hours after it started. Olivia had lost count of the minutes early in the game. At one point, she thought that maybe the clock had broken because she couldn't see the hands moving anymore, not even the second hand.

Afterwards, she was lead back to her cage by the same two armed guards that had once been her friends, but now looked at her with sad, disappointed eyes. There, waiting for her, was Mr. Matron and Mrs. Enn, the prosecutor for the case.

"Olivia, Mrs. Enn has offered us a deal," Mr. Matron said in his nervous voice. He looked at Mrs. Enn and she took the lead, relieving Mr. Matron.

"Plead guilty to both of the murders and we'll go for ten to fifteen years, you could be out in as little as eight," Mrs. Enn said in a firm, non – negotiable way.

"What?" Olivia burst angrily. "Fifteen years in prison for something I didn't do? You've got to be crazy if you think I'm going to take that deal!"

"So that's a no? If we go to trial, you could be sentenced to a minimum of twenty – five. Is that what you want?" Mrs. Enn asked as though she were thoroughly surprised Olivia didn't take the deal immediately. Olivia looked her in the eye and shook her head vigorously: no.

"My client and I will discuss this later," Mr. Matron interrupted suddenly.

"Very well," Mrs. Enn said curtly. She turned and left the cage. The guard opened the door for her, checking her out as she click – clacked her way away. Olivia watched her, her blood boiling.

"You might want to re – think the deal," Mr. Matron said. "They have a lot of evidence against you; you could be out in eight years."

"Do you think I'm guilty?"

"What I think doesn't matter."

"I'll have an answer for you by tomorrow evening. Good – bye, Mr. Matron; I'll see you in the evening then." Olivia plastered a fake smile on her face, keeping it there until her good lawyer was out of sight. The jail bars shook as they were locked together again. Olivia sat there, alone, for a few minutes, thinking carefully about her next move.

*

It was nearing midnight and Elliot still couldn't get a wink of sleep. He had been up all night while his children rested, thinking about the trial earlier that day. He was battling with himself. One side of him said that Olivia was the nicest, sweetest most loving person he had ever met and she could never ever do such a horrific thing. The other side of him told him to look at the compelling evidence.

The telephone rang, startling him. He jumped. On the third ring, he picked it up.

"Hello?"

"Elliot," Cragen said. Elliot thought he sounded a little out of breath, which concerned him.

"Captain, is everything okay?"

"Meet me at Bellevue Hospital."

"Captain? Captain!" But it was too late. The line was dead. Cragen was gone. Elliot blinked a moment and then rushed to put on some clothes. He stuck a note on the refrigerator door, explaining his situation to the kids. He knew they would understand.

Elliot didn't remember the drive over, only that he was worried sick.

"Captain," he gasped, running in. "What's going on?"

"It's Olivia," Cragen said. "She started seizing and was rushed to the hospital. Her breathing and heart stopped on the way and went into cardiac arrest. They've brought her back but she's on life support and being prepped to pump her stomach."

"Oh, jeeze," Elliot breathed. "Suicide?"

"They don't think so."

"Someone tried to kill Olivia." Elliot tested the words on his tongue…they didn't seem right. But Cragen shook his head 'yes' and went to catch up with the doctor, leaving Elliot as stunned as ever.


	2. Chapter 2

Elliot was allowed into see Olivia a few hours after the doctors got her heart rate under control and all the drugs out of her system. They had already pronounced this occurrence not as a suicide attempt but as attempted murder, which, in a way, everyone was glad to hear. At least Olivia was not trying to kill herself. That plus the fact that someone tried to murder her might help her in her defense against the two counts of murder against her. Elliot still didn't know what to make of all the evidence pointing to her.

Olivia was his friend, he knew that, and parts of him still refused to believe she would commit a crime so heinous, or even commit a crime at all. Olivia was a police officer. She was a law-abiding citizen with a spotless record. But he had also sat down at his desk millions of times and looked at all the evidence pointing against her. He had listened to the court battles and still couldn't decide what parts of him he wanted to believe: his heart or his brain – the same battle Kathy had right before she was killed.

She was lying on the hospital bed with her hands crossed over her stomach. Her mouth was slack; her hair brushed lazily across her face, her eyes shut…the most peaceful expression Elliot had ever seen upon her usually stressed face. He blindly pulled up the visitor's chair to the side of her bed and sat down beside her. He cradled her cool hand in his. The whirring of machines were the only sounds in the room. They were so rhythmic and soothing, his head began to nod. His last thought was: what if I'm falling asleep next to my wife's killer?

When Elliot awoke the next morning, Olivia was awake, too. She couldn't talk because of the tube in her throat, but she had a whiteboard and a marker that she was using to write what looked like a novel on. When he took a closer look at it, Elliot realized it was really a letter addressed to him. He sat back, politely waiting for her to finish it before he read it. Manners, he always followed his manners. He was a polite gentleman.

Olivia tapped him gently on the shoulder. He pulled back. It hurt her, he could see it visibly, and a fresh wave of guilt washed over him and tugged hard at his heart. She looked away with tears in her eyes and pushed to large whiteboard into his hands. He read it:

Elliot, I know things are getting complicated right now, but I can promise you I didn't hurt Kathy or that other girl. If I knew more about the case, I might be able to prove it to you. I can give you a timeline of my night and you can give it to Cragen. I'm sure I'll be eliminated as a suspect. Please, Elliot. I love you, Olivia.

"Olivia," he said, holding his breath. "I don't know. I don't know what to think anymore. I'm sorry, but I have to go." He stood up abruptly and strode from the room, leaving Olivia to try and hold back her tears. She wanted to scream after him, but the damn tube stuck in her throat was keeping her from it.

Cragen was gone in the hallway, but Munch and Fin were still standing outside the room, leaning up against the wall. Fin was flipping aimlessly through a magazine and Munch had his eyes closed with a cup of coffee in his hand. Elliot reached out and took the coffee and sipped it. Happily, it was so much better than the disgusting, bitter stuff they made at the office. He took another sip, burning the roof of his mouth.

"Hey," Munch protested, opening his eyes and realizing his hand – warming cup was missing. "That was mine!"

"I know," Elliot said. "Thanks, anyways." Fin snickered, despite his and Elliot's inability to see eye to eye. Remembering this bump in their relationship, he smartly shut his mouth and looked away. Elliot handed the coffee back to Munch and turned to the elevator. He disappeared behind the closing doors and exited the hospital for good.

It was two days until Elliot heard anything about Olivia, or from anyone at the office, period. It ended up being Cragen who called, again. He was at home with his family, as usual, where he always was these days, trying to make up for the years before he had missed. He still felt he was playing catch – up.

"Hello?" he answered, breaking away from a game of cards with his family. The card game stopped and all eyes turned to Elliot. No, more like they fixed onto the phone.

"Elliot? It's Cragen."

"Hi."

"Olivia was released from the hospital this morning, only a few hours ago. She's back in her cell and she's been asking for you to visit her there as soon as possible." There was a pause.

"Cool."

"Elliot," – his voice softened – "you don't actually think she did this, do you?"

"I don't know." Elliot's voice cracked mid – sentence.

"She just wants to talk."

"I'll think about it."

"Okay…bye, Elliot."

"Bye, Cap'n." He put the phone down slowly and turned back to his family. They were all looking at him with expectant, hope – filled eyes. He dreaded not being able to give them good news to give them hope. They were holding their breath. Elliot decided it would probably be a good idea to tell them before they died from lack of oxygen.

"It wasn't anything about your mother's case," Elliot sighed. He saw their shoulders sag with the same disappointment he had felt only a moment ago. They turned back to their cards half – heartedly.

"I'm sorry," Elliot apologized. "I wanted it to be good news, too."

"What was it about, then?" Maureen asked, keeping her eyes on her cards, trying to act like she was only innocently curious.

"Just something about Olivia," he mumbled. "She got out of the hospital this morning. It's nothing, really."

"Olivia was in the hospital?" Kathleen asked, listening in on their conversation. "Why?"

"Attempted murder." Elliot said it straight out. There was really no point in sugar coating the truth, or that he could see or think of.

"Well if she killed Mom, she deserves to die," Dickey murmured sadly. "It's only fair." The rest of his family stared at him, then at Elliot, waiting for an expected reaction.

"You don't really think she did it, do you?" Maureen asked.

"Maybe we should as Lizzy. She was there," Dickey pointed out.

"Okay, time to…uh…do something else," Elliot interrupted. Lizzy looked relieved of the pressure from her siblings. She tried to keep her mind away from that night, but she couldn't. Elliot, seeing his youngest daughter's lower lip begin to shake, got out the medication the doctor prescribed to help with shock and nightmares and gave Lizzy one tablet and then sent her to bed.

Once Lizzy was tucked into bed, asleep and comfortable. Elliot ducked into his two oldest daughter's rooms for a moment, telling them he had to duck out of the house for an hour or so, but he would be right back for sure.

The night outside was crisp and moist. It felt like it was going to rain and as Elliot was driving to Olivia, the first thick drops fell, like God was crying on him, to him, for him. He felt his own hot tears spilling like a river, and tried to keep them under control, but could not. He let them flow, gushing at first and then slowing to a gentle trickle.

He picked up his cell phone and made a quick call, waiting for a long time to finally speak with Olivia. He told her he was on his way, and he would see her in a few minutes. He told her his location and promised to hear him out. She told him how much she loved him, but kept it quick and simple. Her throat was still sore, her voice raspy and breaking.

But he never got there.

Olivia stayed up waiting all night, even after visiting hours were long over, for Elliot to appear by the door of her cell and talk to her, or let her talk to him. She wanted him to listen, to understand how she couldn't have done such a terrible thing.

"Hello, this is Odafin Tutuola, you've reached the Special Victims Unit, how can I help you today?" After a quick game of rocks paper scissors shoot, which determined that Fin would end up picking up the phone and politely answering this call, Fin automatically said the words stiffly to the unknown caller on the other end.

"Fin? Fin, is that you?" a young girl's high voice asked.

"Elizabeth? What'chu calling for now – shouldn't you ask your father about this?" Fin asked, shooting Munch a slightly worried glance. Fin may be a hardheaded jerk sometimes, but his love for children was undoubted and right then, he was very concerned, even if this was Elliot.

"Th – that's the th – thing," Lizzy said, her voice shaking. "H – he's not h – home b – but he said he w – would be soon."

"How long has it been?" He looked at the clock. It was well past one in the morning. Where would Elliot have gone at this time of night? He could only guess, and each was as unlikely as the next.

"I don't know, I d – didn't talk to h – him," Lizzy said. "B – but I think M – Maureen did."

"Put Maureen on the phone," Fin said sharply. He could hear Lizzy's labored breathing as she ran to her sister's room. He heard her rapping loudly on the door and Maureen's muffled, annoyed response.

"'Lo?" Maureen mumbled tiredly.

"Maureen? This is Fin. Where's Elliot?"

"I don't know. Well he went to see Olivia a few hours ago, but he's probably back by now. Sorry my sister called, she probably overreacted."

"Why don't you check if he's there."

Maureen put down the phone and ran around the house once. Unable to find her father, she hurried back to the phone and panted into it, "I can't find him!"

"Okay, stay calm and someone will be there soon. Keep your doors and windows locked. Wait to see the badge to let someone in, got it?"

"Okay."

Fin slammed the phone shut. As they hurried to get manpower and get on the road, Fin explained everything to Cragen over the phone while Munch listened in on the conversation, trying to understand what was going on.

In the car, Fin put the siren up on top of the car. With the siren whirring loudly and the colors flashing through the air, the passing cars stopped and pulled over, letting them through easily.

Elliot's car was pulled over to the side of the road with the lights blinking. Fin really wanted to run over to the car, but he crept silently with his gun up. There was no one in the car. There was no on in the trunk either, except for a note. Fin pulled it from its taped position on the trunk rug, unfolded it and read it aloud, "To the idiot detectives of the Special Victims Unit: you think you can outsmart me. You will only catch me when I choose to be caught. There is no way for you to win. I hope you arrived soon enough to save your partner. Actually, I'm sure you will have. The tough part is finding him. He's lying around here somewhere; you just have to find him. Keep looking, good luck, you'll need it." Fin looked up sourly.

"Well this sucks," Munch said.

"No, really, you boney ass," Fin said sarcastically.

Four hours later, every man and woman on the New York Police Department had a flashlight and was looking for Elliot. They were to look for anywhere a body could be hidden, an actual body, or freshly overturned earth. Even blood would have been a good sign.

"Hey, over here!" an officer that was usually in the background called loudly. Everyone within earshot began running. Others, who saw what was happening from a distance, hustled their way over there too.

The officer's flashlight shone over a lump of sweet smelling earth. It was upside down and grass was mixed in. After a moment of hesitation Fin and Munch and Cragen were on their hands and knees, trying to uncover what was under the lump.

First, there was a leather flip with a badge. Cragen identified it as Elliot's badge. Next to it they found a shiny black gun, also Elliot's. There was also a note. Fin picked it up, aggravated by the chase, and read it aloud to everybody, "Good job, you've found the first part. Keep looking for the body! It's close by."

"All right, everybody, keep looking," Cragen said, turning back to the hunt, slightly disappointed.

"Something over here!" another officer about a hundred yards away from the first sight called about forty minutes later. Once again, everybody rushed over to the sight. Another clump of earth lay, sweet and mixed with grass. Again, it was dug through.

Poking through the dirt was single finger. As they pulled more dirt from the hole, blood began mixing in. It was still wet, which was a hope filled sign. A groan from the bottom of the deep hold echoed upward. They dug faster until Elliot came into view.

Medics fastened Elliot to a stretched and did their best to wipe off the soil from his clothes and body, so as they could see his wounds. Somebody gave them a bucket of water. Stripped to his underwear – and completely humiliated by this, secretly – it was poured over him, finally revealing stab wounds.

The only thing Fin heard as Elliot was loaded and disappeared from view into the ambulance was his heart monitors go flat line and the medics scrambling around to bring him back.

Screaming sirens blocked out everything and suddenly there was nothing but silence and thoughts.

The next day in the squad room, Cragen came out of his office with news on Elliot. Everything else stopped and all attention turned to the front of the room, where Cragen took the stage.

"Elliot's fine, he's being released in a few hour. Now the MO of his attempted murder is the exact same as both Olivia's and the other two's combined. This is one killer, and Olivia is not the one. I've already sent the papers to Bellevue to have her released immediately," Cragen said. A joyous feeling replaced the heavy anxiety and worry in the room.

"So we're back to square one," Fin said.

"No," Munch said, thinking positively. "Now we know Olivia is an innocent woman. We're better off now."

"Okay, let's go over everything again," Cragen said, clearing his throat. And everything went back to normal, just like that. BOOM. And everybody had their own place once again, their own jobs to do. Only one problem remained: to catch the bastard who kept setting up the Special Victims Unit's detectives and officers.


	3. Chapter 3

"Okay, so who has a grudge against us?" Cragen said, clearing the board of all other writing and preparing to make a list of people's names.

"Hmm, let me think," Munch said sarcastically. "Everyone we put away?"

"John, not helpful," Cragen sighed irritably. It had been a long few hours, stuck in the office. Even for the blistering heat of the past weeks, it was especially hot, the thermometers tipping above 100 degrees.

"Check everyone we've put away that's gotten out in the past two months," Cragen instructed. Since he was speaking to no one in particular, no one did anything, they just kept reading through files or doing boring paperwork stacked upon their desks.

"Since this guy could target any one of us – and I mean any of us in this room, this department – at any time, I'd think you'd all be a little more helpful!" His voice rose as he spoke, his anger spiking to the highest it had been in a long time.

There was a momentary pause of silence and stillness. All eyes fixed on him before every person in the room made a dash for their computer or the nearest computer to them, even if it wasn't theirs.

"Damn, that's a long list," Fin said. "We're better than I thought we were."

"And this is only a portion of the people," Munch mused.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Let's get started!" Cragen cried. "I want every available person interrogating people on this list. I don't care if you're an officer or even a secretary! Just get your butt out the door and get working."

And just like that, everyone scrambled towards the doorway, pushing each other over in their rush.

"Wait!" As if a power button had been pushed, every human being stopped dead in his or her tracks, waiting for the next set of directions to come rolling off Cragen's tongue and into their ears.

"You two," Cragen said, pointing to Munch and Fin. "Check up on Elliot before you begin. We need details, you know the drill." He headed back into his office, thinking about chewing on a nice red twizzler from the giant bin on his desk, and maybe enjoying a large cup of Scotch or Vodka, or some other hard liquor he was trying to give up.

"Oh," he said over his shoulder, right before he vanished from sight behind the office door. "Fin, be nice." Even from where they were, the two fine detectives both heard the door close, the latch catch and the distinct _click_ of a lock being turned on. The two detectives headed out, trying not to think of what their Captain was going to do next.

"Yeah, Fin, be nice," Munch repeated mockingly.

"Ah, shut up," Fin said, looking much like he'd like to punch Munch playfully on the arm and then eat a tub full of night crawlers than go and visit Elliot in the hospital. He would get over it…somehow.

On their way out, they ran into Kim Greyleck. Her hair was pulled back, accenting her cold, deeply set eyes, especially thin mouth and high, bony cheeks. They stepped around her, as they weren't big fans, and kept going.

Elliot was wide awake in his bed when Munch and Fin came. He was still woozy from the drugs he had been given – whatever he had been given, he didn't yet know – and numb from the extremely strong painkillers that were continuously being streamed into his blood with an IV drip of an elixir of medications.

He was surprised that Fin had enough courtesy towards him to knock on the outside of his room before entering, even if he didn't wait for a response before barging into the room loudly. Fin pulled up the visitor's chair, making sure it scraped extra loudly on the floor. Munch preferred to stand quietly in the background and let his partner do all the work.

"So," Fin said smarmily, smiling.

"So," Elliot echoed more seriously.

"You know the drill," Munch interrupted before Fin had the chance to make a smart – ass comment like he would if he saw the opening.

"I was driving to visit Olivia. I had just called her when I saw some car pulled up on the side of the road. Some guy was standing outside. The hood was open and it looked like the engine was smoking. The guy flagged me down. I didn't get a good look at him. He was dressed in black with a hood, scarf and sunglasses. I started to get suspicious when I saw how he was dressed – it was so hot out. I turned around and started walking back and I heard footsteps. I turned around and he jumped me, injected something into my neck. The next thing I know I'm on the ground and I can't move a muscle or say a word or see or hear or feel anything." Elliot stopped for a moment. "Are my kids okay?"

"They're fine," Munch promised him.

"You say there was another car," Fin doubted.

"Yes, there was."

"There weren't any other tire tracks," Fin said smugly.

"I can't tell you what happened. As I said, I couldn't do anything at all."

"What kind of car was it?" Munch interjected as Fin opened his mouth, ready to let out a mound of nasty words and threats. Instead, he bit his lip and shut up.

"I don't know…dark…black or navy blue, a small car, but I can't tell you much else. It was so dark, it all happened so fast," Elliot said, trying to remember the previous night's events. But he couldn't.

"You can't remember anything else?" Munch pressed gently, doing his best to follow Cragen's instructions on "being nice", even though it wasn't meant for him.

"The drugs must've tampered with my memory," Elliot said, sighing.

"That's right, blame the drugs," Fin said under his breath. But Elliot had a feeling he was supposed to hear that. He wasn't in the mood for a fight with a jerk, so he pretended he hadn't heard anything and lay back onto his pillows.

"Are we done here?" Elliot asked as a new blanket of exhaustion settled upon his ravaged, weak body. He felt defenseless, and the last thing he wanted was Fin pushing that in his face. He let his eyes shut and tried to fall asleep.

"For now," Munch said quietly and began tip toeing from the room.

"We'll be back," Fin promised somewhat threateningly as he followed Munch from the room, slapping his feet so the sound echoed in the room. But Elliot was already fast asleep, dreaming about Kathy and Olivia and his children.

CO Martin was a buff man with many thoughts and few words. He usually kept to himself and was a bit OCD and very shy around other people, especially pretty women, so he had a hard time when it came to dealing with Olivia.

It was odd for him to work in a women's prison, but he couldn't find anything else. The manager had made an exception, seeing as CO Martin was openly and very gay. The manager had no doubt that Martin wouldn't rape any of the inmates.

Olivia and the CO had formed an unusually close bond over the few weeks that she had been there. It wasn't that they were close at all, because they weren't supposed to even communicate other than CO Martin telling her what to do, but they were always polite towards each other and shared secret smiles when others weren't looking.

Olivia was asleep in her cell, peacefully dreaming of a day when the idiot people of New York City would realize she was an innocent woman and she could finally go back to having a normal life. At the moment she was awakened, she was at her wedding with Elliot and they were about to kiss.

A loud scraping of metal against metal ruined this beautiful moment. The picture froze and shattered in her head as her eyes popped open and she sat up quickly. She was turning around and about to make a crude comment when she noticed CO Martin standing by her doorway. She smiled, and so did he.

"Good morning, Cory," Olivia said, using the improper first – name to address CO Martin. He didn't seem to mind. In fact, he rather enjoyed hearing warmth in such a cold, emotionless place. But that was what a prison was supposed to be like. He knew that.

"Good news," CO Martin breathed, beckoning her over to the door. She abided.

"Did those idiot detectives finally figure out that I'm an innocent woman and then I get to go back to a normal life and marry Elliot?" she asked, expecting a let down.

"And I have bad news," CO Martin finished his sentence without answering her.

"Ugh," Olivia groaned. She didn't want to hear bad news, only good news.

"Do you want the good news or the bad news first?" he asked, eyes gleaming.

"Bad." She really dreaded hearing what would come next, but she manned up.

"Your friend Detective Elliot Stabler was drugged and stabbed last night," CO Martin said, hating himself for having to break such terrible news to what he considered a friend. He watched her face fall and the lines fill with worry.

"And the good news?" she asked, not believing that any amount of "good" news would be able to cure her broken heart at the moment. Elliot was dead, or so she was assuming, and she was never going to kiss him or marry him or have kids with him. Her hopes and dreams had officially been crushed. She might as well have stayed in prison.

"Well, first off, he's alive," he said. Her heart leaped and tears came to her eyes. He grinned wider as he saw her joyous reaction. His own heart pounded faster. He was wondering if he really was gay. Maybe he did like women. Maybe this special woman was changing him for the better. Of course that meant he would have to find a new job, but he was sure he could figure that out one way or another.

"Also, you're free to go." He opened the barred door. It squealed as it was pulled open. The inmates around them (some had been listening in on their conversation) winced and pressed their hands to their ears, trying in vain to block out the horrific sound. But to Olivia it was the sweetest, loveliest sound she had ever heard. It was the sound of freedom at last.

Half an hour later with a clean set of clothes and her personal items back without handcuffs and ankle cuffs and hugs from CO Martin, she stepped outside for the first time in weeks. Her heart could have exploded with happiness. She was scared it would.

She was too busy to really think about her newfound freedom. She already had a mental list of things to do. First she would go visit Elliot. Then she would go to the office. Finally she would go home and indulge in a warm bath and tidy things up.

Elliot woke up early in the afternoon. His sight was blurry from the sleepiness that was usually stuck in his eyes after a long sleep. Plus the bright light streaming in from every entrance to the room was painfully pinching his eyes. That didn't help. He rubbed his eyes and smudges became shapes. Gray became colors. Shapes began to form details. He blinked rapidly a few times.

Suddenly Olivia was sitting next to him in the visitor's chair. She took his hand and he thought she was going to kiss it, then kiss him. But she didn't. She threw it down.

"You owe me an apology and an explanation," she said stiffly.

"What? What do you mean?" he asked her, thoroughly confused.

"For the way you treated me before," she spat angrily. "For treating me like scum, like a killer. Tell me why I deserved that. Tell me why. I wouldn't be surprised if you come away from this with a stupid story, pushing the blame towards everyone around you. You just can't be man enough to take the blame. You're pathetic." Done with her rant, she stopped to catch her breath.

By this time, she wanted Elliot to have shrunk back as far as he could into the bed. She wanted him to be slumped over with the blankets up to his chin. Olivia had leaned forward as she spoke, spitting furiously in his face. She could be intimidating when she wanted to be.

But Elliot was stubborn and refused to move. He remained sitting stonily with his jaw clenched, its muscle ticking dangerously fast. Her eyes, alive with vehemence, glinted and were half crazed.

"I don't owe you anything," he hissed at her. "I treated you like I thought you deserved to be treated at the time. Now that you're innocent, I'm sorry."

Olivia was at a loss for words. What had happened to her partner, to her best friend while she had been away? Where did he go? She didn't want this cold monster. She wanted friendly Elliot Stabler again. But he seemed to be lost forever, washed away in the ocean by tides of murder, heartache and betrayal.

"No you're not," she whispered. Her heart was torn again, and she was resisting the overwhelming urge to reach over and slap his face as she stormed from the room.

With his distraction gone, Elliot rested his eyes again and resumed his place in remembering all the good memories with Kathy, with his whole family.

"Where's the Captain?" Munch asked Fin early the next morning.

"Don't know," was the reply. Fin was too busy pouring more coffee to answer.

"Whatever." The two let it pass, thinking he was just taking a sick day and forgot to call in. They let it go and moved on, working tirelessly through the day and going home that night, expecting him to be back in the office the next morning.

"Where's the Captain?" Munch asked Fin the next morning.

"How should I know?" Fin asked. He was tired and extra irritable.

"You know, I'm really starting to get worried," Munch said.

"He's probably got a case of the flu and lost his voice. I'm sure he's fine. Let it go. Seriously, Munch, let it go."

On the fourth day of Captain Cragen's absence, even Fin began to get worried. They were packing to take a detour to Cragen's house on the way to a witness's house when an officer they'd never seen before entered the squad room and approached them.

"Do detectives Munch, Tutuola, Benson and Stabler work here, and is this New York Police Department's Special Victims Unit?" the man asked formally.

"Who the hell are you?" Fin asked. "Don't mess around with us, kid."

"Is this Donald Cragen?" The young man in the uniform held a picture up to Munch's face. Munch took a step back to get a better look. He took a double take.

"What happened?" Munch asked. He couldn't get air into his lungs.

"What the…?" Fin said, staring wide – eyed at the picture. "What is this?" he screamed in the man's startled face as he threw the uniform against the wall. "What kinds of sick joke d'you think you're pulling?"

"Hey!" Munch said, pulling his partner off. "Cool it, Fin."

"What happened?" Munch repeated once everything was calmed down.

"They found him in his home this morning, dead approximately twelve hours," the uniform informed them. He filled them in on the details and got out of there as fast as his stubby legs could carry him. Fin's stare followed him out the door and beyond.

"Alert all nearby hospitals and health clinics for a gunshot wound victim," Munch said into the telephone. "If Cragen got a piece of the killer, he has to get help or else he'll turn up dead somewhere." He hung up the phone and added to Fin, "I'd prefer he turn up dead. It saves us a lot of effort." Fin agreed by nodding his head.

"We've got something," Fin said triumphantly, banging the phone down, standing up and grabbing the car keys. It was only three hours after the alerts had been sent out, and they were getting calls continuously.

"Bellevue hospital, some girl turned up with a .22 caliber gunshot wound. The bullet was still in her. She's in surgery now, but she'll be out and awake by the time we get there," Fin informed Munch. Munch knew Cragen carried a .22 caliber in an ankle holster at all times. This could be it; their big break.

Elliot found Olivia at her apartment. Luckily enough for him, she opened up the door – not knowing who it was until a split second later – and he slipped inside before she had the chance to push him out.

"What are you do-," she began the demand. But mid – sentence, her mouth was occupied with something else and she was unable to finish. Personally, both Olivia and Elliot enjoyed this occupation better than the alternative.

Fin and Munch strode into the hospital room simultaneously. They entered at a fast pace only to stop in their tracks like somebody had put the brakes on. Confused, they blinked a few times, unable to compute who the person in the hospital bed was.

They couldn't understand who the person was that was staring them down with those ice – gray, emotionless eyes; the person who was sulking using the tiny line of her mouth to pout; whose high cheekbones were flushed and angry. Her hair was let down. It didn't do much to relieve the sharpness of her features. It barely softened her face.

"You," Fin said in disgust.

"I had you fooled, I had you good," Kim said, glaring at them.

"We caught you," Munch pointed out wittily.

"Obviously," Fin said, thinking Munch was a complete knucklehead.

"Only because I wanted to be caught," she whispered.

"Shut up," Fin and Munch chorused. Munch went around the side of the bed and cuffed her wrist to the bed rail. Fin did the same on the other side. Together, they read her Miranda rights, though she knew them well.

"I knew she was a no good bitch," Olivia said.

"It's not enough," Munch said glumly, looking at the floor.

"What?" Fin asked, looking like Munch was speaking a whole different language.

"Sure, we caught the bad guy. But it's not enough. We catch bad guys all the day and they get jail time. Shouldn't she get something more than just life in jail? She killed a decorated police officer…." Munch trailed off in utter disgust.

"I know," Elliot agreed. "She should."

"But we can feel good for getting Cragen the little bit of justice that we did," Olivia said, pointing everyone to the brighter side.

"Agreed," everybody said.


	4. Chapter 4: EPILOGUE

**Epilogue**

Elliot couldn't believe that so many uniforms could fit into one area. Yes, the lawn was humongous and seemingly never – ending, but the crowds were larger. Luckily, a wrought iron gate with peeling paint surrounded this reserved area, so the pressing media were kept at bay during the semi – private funeral. One camera was recording it, but that was permitted.

"CAPTAIN DONALD CRAGEN – MAY HE REST IN PEACE" was carved into the wood of the expensive casket that was bought by the state, and then painted over in shimmering gold, so it reflected any light that reached it. This was carved on the end that was his head.

It was a closed – casket funeral, as Cragen had once said he'd wanted, so many years ago, when he was still much too young to be thinking of death. Not to say that he was old enough to die, but he still had too much life to meet death as a friend. He had been so lively.

A flag was placed over the dark mahogany wood. A line of people – each clutching a red, sensuous smelling, delicate rose in their hand – stepped up and placed their single flower upon the top of the casket. Cragen's boss went first, followed by his employees, and finally the other uniforms that could have been complete strangers were given their turn. By the end of the ceremony, blossoms were falling off the top of the high, precariously stacked pile.

Olivia had cried. She knew she was going to, and she had the right to. She didn't even try to hold back the salted beads from dribbling constantly down her cheeks. Elliot looked on the verge of tears. He wanted to cry so badly, but he felt that Cragen would have wanted him to stay strong, like he always was. Munch's lower lip was trembling, but he was biting back his emotions. Fin only looked sadly to the ground. The hurt was obvious in his eyes, but not in his face.

The detectives rose solemnly from their seats after the casket was lowered into the ground, roses and all. The dirt wouldn't be piled atop to fill the hole until everybody was gone. All four took one last fleeting glance at where their dead former Captain lay before exiting the lawn.

Beyond the gates enclosing the burial area, it was hell on earth. Even the police officers couldn't keep the press back, though they were doing their best. Microphones were shoved into Elliot, Olivia, Munch and Fin's faces, but they pushed them away, saying, "no comment."

They had finally been rid of all the pesky reporters when a middle – aged man, maybe ten or fifteen years younger than Cragen, in a crisp, pressed uniform approached them.

"Hello, my name is Jasper Lee," the man said, "but you can call me Jazz, everyone does. I know this is a very bad time to tell you this – and I do sincerely apologize for the timing, it wasn't my fault – but I'll be your new Captain." He quickly hastened to add, "I'm so sorry for your loss."

"Thank you for the sympathy," Olivia said, her voice quivering as her tears stopped.

"You know, maybe we should wait for Monday to discuss the work crap," Fin interrupted.

"I think some of us need time to mourn," Elliot said, rubbing the small of Olivia's back gently with his hand. "I'll drive her home; make sure she's all right. See you guys Monday. Nice meeting you…Jazz. See you Monday."

"Bye," Jazz said faintly, watching the two main detectives leave, judging them as they went. He thought they were too close. She was leaning up against him with her head resting on his chest, right below his shoulder. And he had his arm draped affectionately over her.

"I guess I should hit the road," Fin said. "I'll see you guys later."

"Sorry for the crappy introductions," Munch apologized. "It's just not a great time."

"I know," Jazz assured him.

Monday morning came too quickly for everybody. Olivia and Elliot had a nice weekend just the two of them. They'd spent most of the time in bed. Once they'd gotten up to watch a movie, but they never ended up finishing it. Elliot got a baby sitter to look after the kids. It was an irresponsible thing on his part, but he didn't think one weekend would hurt. Munch and Fin didn't do anything extraordinary over the weekend, but they enjoyed some peace and time to drink.

Jasper "Jazz" Lee was already in the office when the four detectives arrived at work, which was usually in the same order. Fin always turned up early because he often left sooner than he expected: he had a long drive to work. Munch would turn up next, having nothing else to do and not eating much, as was obvious from his bony appearance. Olivia and Elliot had come to an agreement. They would leave Olivia's apartment at the same time. She would go directly to work while he stopped at home and took care of his kids. He would be last.

"Welcome," Captain Lee said, smiling with fake warmth. "I'm sure we'll find a way to get along. But right now I'd like to go over some ground rules."

"Who do you think we are – kindergartners? We've been doing this longer than you have, so don't tell us what to do," Fin spoke up daringly.

"I will not tolerate rudeness," Lee raised his voice, his chest puffing out with dignity. "Any rudeness and you will be on desk duty. And stupid mistakes, or fooling around and you will find yourself without a job and unable to find one involving anything to do with crime. Get to work."

"Jerk," Fin said as Lee entered his new office. The walls were bare now, and so was the desk. It no longer smelled musky and of alcohol, but of nothing. It was just another cold place, like Lee's heart. Nobody liked it. Lee kept the door ajar, so he had a clear view of the detectives.

Elliot felt the frustration building up inside him. To be honest to God, all he really wanted to do was give Lee's head a few smacks against the wall. That wasn't even his anger problems speaking right there. If it were his anger management problems speaking, in Elliot's mind, Lee would be bleeding out on the floor before he had the chance to sit down in his new, leather seat.

Olivia couldn't believe what a complete ass this new guy was. Who was he to storm in here and change everything only days after their old Captain's death? No, she would not be a follower, except to Cragen. She would uphold his rules, and if Lee had a problem, he'd get shit right back from her and hopefully would somehow get fired. Or die. Either was fine with Olivia, which truly surprised her because she didn't think she had a naturally violent personality.

Fin knew enough to realize that punching the dude would only get him in trouble. Doing small things to annoy him and push him over the edge was his plan. Lee couldn't do anything small that wasn't breaking any rules. Fin was waiting for the day that Lee would finally break.

Munch didn't think anything of the new guy. Only that he was a self centered jerk. But he figured upholding his rule was the way to go. He was a follower by heart, and he planned to stay that way, despite the crap he knew he would get from his fellow co – workers. They would deal.

The detectives, and Lee (who personally already hated the detectives, except the hot one, didn't even want to work in this unit. He'd wanted to work in Homicide, and would do anything possible to get there, even if it meant suffering through this for a year or so.) were so wrapped up in their personal emotions, they didn't notice a familiar, old friend enter the squad room. She slipped in so stealthily and quietly, she might have been a ghost.

She was beautiful with honey blond hair and pale skin. Slowly she made her way to finally rest, standing directly behind Olivia. Olivia didn't notice anything. She was too busy fuming. The woman waited a moment, hoping for some response. Gently, she faked a cough. Olivia looked up suddenly, thoroughly surprised, as did Munch, Fin and Elliot.

"Casey?" Olivia asked, still in slight shock.

"Casey!" Elliot repeated as a statement, smiling happily down at the old friend.

"Hey, welcome back," Munch said warmly.

"Finally, someone who's not a complete idiot – we're saved!" Fin breathed loudly enough to be heard by everybody. Casey beamed at all of them, unsure of what she should say next.

"You look like you're dressed for business," Olivia said, noticing the tidy suit and skirt.

"I am," Casey replied. But before she could elaborate, someone disrupted her reason.

"Who are you? You're distracting my detectives from their work," Lee said sternly, looking meanly at Casey with heartless eyes, reminding everybody much of Kim Greyleck.

"I'm Casey Novak, assistant district attorney for the Special Victims Unit. And you are…?" she shot right back at him in that same doubtful, condescending tone. Olivia gave her a two thumbs up behind Lee's back and smiled even wider. Finally someone with the authority to stand up to him did so. She could do that and get away with it. He had no control over her.

"I am the Captain of this unit," Lee said proudly, puffing his chest out. Casey snickered.

"So you're the jerk I've been hearing about," Casey said with all seriousness. The four detectives couldn't hold back their laughter. Lee turned bright red and stormed into his office and slammed the door shut. He went straight to the phone. They could see his shadow moving.

"I thought you were disbarred. How'd you get back in?" Olivia asked loudly, trying to talk over the noise of club music, dancers, and wasted people. She inched closer to Casey as so she could hear more clearly.

"I don't know," Casey shouted, straining her voice so much that it hurt. "One minute I'm at home, searching for a job as anything, even a janitor, and then I'm being offered my old job back. I didn't know what to think of it. I didn't really care. I accepted it, glad to be getting some money."

"Well we're glad to have you back," Elliot piped in, giving her a hug and dropping a quick peck on her cheek. Olivia flushed a little and tried not to feel too jealous. Elliot was allowed to do that. They weren't even officially dating. It was just a fling. Plus the peck didn't mean anything.

"I call a toast for Cragen, having Casey back, and getting through all the crap that was brought on by this current case," Olivia said, raising her wine glass. The others followed her lead.

"To us," she said.

"To us!" the others said in unison, and they all clinked glasses. Alcohol slopped and spilled over the edges, but they didn't care. Tonight was their night to get wasted. Who cared?

Tuesday morning, the five party – goers were really feeling the affects of their actions from the night before. Despite the throbbing headaches and waves of nausea, they were glad they went out and had some fun before another terrible, torturous day at work.

But the day ended up not being too bad. First, Captain Lee's office was empty. He wasn't there, and none of his stuff was either. Second, they received a call informing them of Captain Lee's quitting. Third, Casey confirmed her staying as SVU's ADA for good, and she made sure to promise she would never betray any of her friends as long as they weren't jerks.

"I wonder who our new Captain'll be," Olivia mused aloud.

"I bet they've run out," Munch joked. "Nobody wants to work with us." Everyone chuckled. Casey was sitting on the edge of Olivia's desk, since she was done with prosecuting Kim Greyleck, who was sentenced to life without parole, which was undoubted and expected.

THE END 

****end notes****

_I hoped you enjoyed this. Please leave reviews for me, telling me how to fix things or make them better. Look out for my next few chapters, whenever they may come out. Thank youu 3. _


	5. Chapter 5: final end piece, i promise

The "Follow Up"

(This really is the end, people!)

Wednesday morning:

Munch and Fin were in the office, noticing the absence of the two lead detectives. The new Captain was supposed to be coming in, and they were supposed to be meeting him, or her, and "giving him or her warm welcomes to the office," were the Chief's exact words.

It was hot, as usual, in the office. Fin was on the phone, doing his best not to scream at the maintenance people about getting the god damn heater fixed and at the same time wondering where the hell Elliot and Olivia could be when the office had something planned.

Munch was patiently sitting at his desk with his back erect and suit neatly pressed. He had always believed in first appearances. He thought, if you always expect people to judge you on your first visit from the way you act and dress, you won't be surprised when they do.

Now, Elliot and Olivia were doing something more important – to them, at least. They were sitting in the living room of Elliot's house with Elliot's five kids sitting on the couches in front of them, waiting curiously to hear what this big announcement was going to be.

"I'm sure you're all wondering why we called this meeting," Olivia said, beginning like she would in the squad room then feeling silly as she remembered she was talking to a bunch of kids. They stared back at her, blinking blankly, and waiting for their father to say something they could comprehend. He didn't keep them waiting.

"I know it's really soon for this, but Liv and I have figured out we've got certain…feelings for each other, and we've decided to act on them," Elliot said, hoping to break the news gently.

"So, you're dating another woman right after mom dies," Maureen summarized dryly.

"Well I wasn't thinking of it that crudely, but sure, if you want to make it sound like that."

"Cool," Dickey said. "You'd be a cool mom," he said to Olivia. She felt warm tingles crawling through her body, especially around her heart. If she could be accepted by the kids, that would be perfect. But she shook the hopeful thoughts from her mind and returned to the talk.

"Whatever," Maureen said, getting up and storming away.

"Sorry," Elliot murmured to Olivia. "This is hard for all of them."

"I know that."

"So…what do you guys think?" he asked Kathleen, Elizabeth, Dickey and Eli. Kathleen shrugged and followed her sister up the stairs and into her room. Dickey, having already declared his opinion, saw the window of opportunity and scampered away to his video games or whatever.

There was a momentary pause filled with uneasy awkwardness between the four people remaining in the living room. Olivia stared at her feet, feeling her cheeks burning slightly. Eli was still too young to really understand what was going on so he continued to play with a nearby couch cushion.

"Elizabeth, you have a doctor's appointment soon," Elliot finally broke the silence. "I'll see you later, Liv. Feel free to stay if you would like. I'll be back soon." He jumped to his feet, waiting for Elizabeth to do the same. Olivia rose more slowly.

"I just had a doctor's appointment," Elizabeth complained. "Why do I need another one?"

"It's not a regular doctor's appointment," Elliot explained. "You're just going to talk with someone. It'll be fine, trust me."

"You're paying money for me to talk to someone?" She raised her eyes incredulously.

"Well…it'll be more than just talking about your boyfriends and stuff," Elliot said.

"You're going to see a shrink," Olivia finally piped in.

"You think I'm crazy, don't you, just like Maureen is," Elizabeth said, tears bubbling in her eyes. Elliot groaned inwardly, making a mental note to yell at Olivia when he had the chance.

"It'll help the nightmares stop," he promised her. "You want that, don't you? Now let's go." Grudgingly, knowing that the nightmares had stopped since Kim Greyleck's arrest and conviction, Elizabeth followed her father out the door anyways, sniffling, and pausing to wave Olivia bye.

"Thanks," Elliot muttered sarcastically to her as he swept out the door, leaving Olivia alone in the house. She had been there many times before and knew where everything was, but it still seemed like on of a stranger, like she had never been there before. Maybe it was the lack of Kathy, the lack of motherly warmth. She thought she would fix that problem as soon as possible.

She was still sitting on the couch when Elliot and Elizabeth came back from the shrink's an hour and a half later. Elizabeth looked upset, but at least dry – eyed, and he looked satisfied.

"Hey," Olivia chirped, trying to lighten the mood. But Elizabeth brushed past her and ran to her room. The two adults could hear her slam the door shut from where they were.

"I'm sorry for before," she apologized to Elliot.

"It's fine," he said gruffly.

"I'll just leave then," she said, feeling very unwelcome.

"No, don't," he said, pulling her into a passionate kiss. "I love you, Liv."

"Why didn't you tell them the truth?" Olivia asked, putting their love on hold. "I mean yes, we have feelings for each other, but you didn't tell them about before, when Kathy was still alive."

"I didn't really think they'd want to hear it," Elliot said.

"Yes, but don't you think they'd rather be hurt by the truth than loved by lies?"

"Maybe," he sighed. "Please don't tell them."

"Of course I won't." Before she could protest, he swooped down and easily picked her up in his arms. He carried her to the bedroom, where he laid her out on the bed….

"I want to be with you forever," Elliot said when they were done, breathing heavily, with a light sheen of sweat covering his entire body. They were both naked under the sheets.

"Was that a proposal?" Olivia teased. She tickled his bare chest, tracing one of the many tattoos on his body gently with her pinkie finger. He took her hand and stopped her.

"Maybe it was," he whispered with all seriousness.

"You're not being funny," she said with sharpness in her voice. She sat up in bed, holding the sheets to her chest with one hand, and using the other to prop herself up.

"I mean it," Elliot said. "I don't have a ring now, but I promise you I can get you one."

"I'd love to, El, but what about work? What about your kids?" Olivia asked thoughtfully.

"We'll work something out," he said, leaning in for another kiss, but she pushed him away, her brain working hard. There couldn't be distractions – even good ones – at this time.

"But-," she said, but he put a finger to her lips and shushed her.

"Shh," he whispered. "It's a simple question – yes or no." His eyes looked into hers with burning passion and undying love, pleading and innocent. Olivia could feel herself melting on the inside. It was like he had her under some kind of spell.

"Yes," she breathed, and fell back into his embrace, hopefully forever.

*

They kept their engagement a secret. He bought her a ring, a beautiful, expensive one that they really couldn't afford, but they made it work anyways.

Elliot broke the news to the kids the next day. As suspected, Maureen looked angry, but that was only because she was going through one of her bipolar spells. Kathleen wasn't sure what to think. It was great he was happy, but she thought they needed more time.

Dickey was more than joyful. He thought Olivia was tons of fun and would be able to put up with his father's long hours. But then another worry came to mind: if he had two cop parents, who would be at home to stay with them?

"But you can't tell anyone," Elliot said. Their eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"It's against work rules, isn't it," Kathleen guessed. They didn't have to wait to hear the answer out loud. They all knew very well that it was. Maureen shook her head disapprovingly and got to her feet, ready to walk away like she usually did.

"Hey, wait," Elliot called out. "Are we at an agreement?"

"Yes. Sure. whatever." She turned away quickly, but not fast enough so that Elliot and Olivia missed her rolling her eyes.

*

And so in July of that year, they had a private ceremony with only the kids, Munch, Fin and Novak there to witness it in Elliot's church. Of course, the new Captain would have no idea. They had tampered with their schedules to make it so either Elliot or Olivia was always home when the kids were, and had sworn to the new Captain that it had always been that way.

Captain Rivera was a woman in her forties. She was a little on the plump side, thanks to having children. She had mousy brown hair with a tinge of red, brown eyes with a perfect smile. Thankfully, she seemed open to new suggestions of how to run things, and perfectly fine with using the same rules as Cragen had.

It was only when Olivia realized she was pregnant with her and Elliot's first child that they had problems.

"Who's the father?" Rivera asked one day in the office, when Olivia was six months in.

"Oh, my husband, Jason," Olivia responded, racking her brain for some name.

"You don't wear a ring," Rivera noticed.

"It's being adjusted to fit my finger. We only married recently." Well, that part was true.

"I hope to meet him." The others looked up, now interested in how Olivia would get out of this mess she was in. Elliot's stomach clenched with nervousness. This could very well possibly be the end to both his and her job.

"I doubt it, he's always at work," Olivia said, thinking up a legit excuse. And that too was true. Elliot was always at work.

"What's the baby's name?" Rivera poked curiously.

"Casey," Olivia responded promptly. It was true. Elliot and Olivia had discussed this well, and they agreed on one of their closest friends. Plus, Casey was a boy's and a girl's name, so they couldn't go wrong.

Rivera nodded her head and went back to her office, done with her line of questioning. Elliot and Olivia breathed a light sigh of relief and promptly went back to their work.

"I've got to go," Elliot said. "Lizzy's got another appointment with the shrink."

"She's still going to that?" Fin asked.

"It's her last appointment," Olivia said.

"How's she doing, anyways?" Munch asked.

"Oh, she's finally gotten over the worst of it. She's doing fine," Elliot said. "Thanks for asking, John." He picked up his coat and headed for the elevator. At the last minute, Olivia jumped up from her desk and hurried to catch up with him.

"I'd like to go this time," she said. The doors closed and reopened at the bottom floor of the building. They stepped through the doors together, hand in hand, outside into their little peace of heaven, their "happily ever after".


End file.
